Winning and Losing
by Show Doll
Summary: They were a volatile mix. She was all water and he was made of entirely of oil.


Disclaimer: I don't own this world I just like to play in it. Also, sorry in advanced for my bad grammar. This also isn't cannon so if that doesn't suit your tastes you probably shouldn't read on. Please read the A/N at the end of this fic enjoy

Winning and Losing

"You're absolutely _maddening _and I would appreciate it if you would learn to show an iota of respect towards my-"

"Granger, honestly, do you really think he cares about the bloody-"

"Yes! And you would see that if you had even a shard of-"

"A shard of what? Bleeding heart syndrome?" His voice lowered dangerously as he pushed back from the table. While others voices had the tendency to rise when they angered, Draco's temper only showed when his voice deepened. "I'm not Potter, Granger and you would do well if you would remember that. I'm too old to let some silly bint shape me as she sees fit"

"You're infuriating!" She yelled at him- or rather, his back as he left the room waving off her last comment as he did so.

She leaned her head against the cold oak of the table and closed her eyes. Her heart was beating wildly underneath the smooth cream of her blouse and it was driving her bonkers. She may hate to admit it, but he could rile her up faster than any wizard she had ever known.

In retrospect, she knew she should go after him to apologize for what she had said about his father, mother, marks at Hogwarts and his snoring but at the present moment the only thing she truly regretted was not having the chance to hurl more insults at him before he left.

_The good ones only come when he's already gone _She thought as a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

And besides, she wasn't going to apologize for all the things she had said unless he came back and begged her forgiveness for the awful things he had said to her. Being the first to apologize was a sign of weakness in her book. She was no longer the starry eyed do-gooder she had been in school. She wasn't going to get extra marks for being nice to the prat who could hardly be bothered to be nice to her.

'_How did your mother ever push you out, Granger? I mean that head size coupled with all that hair? Merlin, how did that muggle doctor even see what he was doing?"_

A hand went up subconsciously to touch the tightly coiled brown hair that was piled on the top of her head. He was a prat. One day she had gotten so tired of his incessant teasing about her hair that she had marched straight to George Weasley, who seemed to have a potion for everything, and did away with much of it. Of course, the end product was not how she had envisioned it. No, she hadn't planned on ending up with bright orange shoulder length hair for two months.

She remembered the snarl on Draco's face when he had seen it for the first time. He pulled at her hair roughly like he thought it was some kind of muggle wig. Like it would just come off because he wrapped his fingers around it. She slapped him that night- harder than she had when they were in school.

_Do you always change yourself for men, Granger? Pathetic, really. _ Those were the only words he spoke to her for a week before she gave in and confessed to him she hadn't meant to change the color of her hair. Just the texture. He didn't talk to her for another 2 days after that. Not that she even noticed.

They were a volatile mix together. She was all water and he was made up entirely of oil. If she thought it was a brisk summer day he would insist it was scorching and mock her for wearing even the lightest of shawls. Likewise, if he had the audacity to point out a simple solution to a problem she would give him a hundred reasons as to why that just couldn't be the answer- nothing is ever that simple. They could hardly agree on anything except the sky was blue. Although, she was more inclined to believe that the sky was more cerulean blue than it was just _blue. _

A cough brought her back from her thoughts. The brown haired witched looked up sheepishly as three pairs of eyes stared at her. She wasn't quite sure how long she had been lost in her own thoughts but she did know that her guests were probably one step closer to locking her up in St. Mungo's and throwing away the keys.

"Hermione.." Ginerva said lightly. Ginny hated being called by the nickname that had plagued her through her adolescence. She was insistent on being called _Ginerva. _As foreign as that felt on Hermione's tongue she tried to oblige her friend as often as she could- which wasn't often.

She felt bad for having a row with Draco in front of her friends the way that they had. In her defense, he had been such a prat to Harry that she couldn't just sit and push around her corn like a mindless doll. Truthfully, it wasn't his words that had caused her to jump to Harry's defense- it was his tone. She wasn't even sure Harry had picked up on it but she knew that tone because it was the same one he used when they were in school.

All Harry had asked for was a simple donation into his latest company. Yes, he had asked for a quite _sizeable _donation but to the sole heir of the Malfoy fortune, it was nothing but chump change. Hermione knew that Draco Malfoy was a lot of things – many of which she herself called him this very night- but he wasn't frugal. It wasn't the money that caused Draco to catch that _tone _with Harry it was the fact that he was a very good business man. Harry Potter had indeed saved the world but he couldn't save his own company. Every organization Harry started folded within months and Draco was well aware of that. He wouldn't have his good name, the name he had worked so hard at building up after the war, attributed to the short comings of Potter.

She understood why he wouldn't want to give money to Harry she just didn't understand why he felt the need to take the piss out of him in the process.

"More pie?" Hermione asked pleasantly breaking her own thoughts "Your mothers recipe actually. Molly was such a sweet heart! Last I visited she just sent me away with all these-"

"'Mione-"

"Recipes and I hardly know what to do with myself. I mean, I'm not such a bad cook anymore I'm actually getting a lot better as the days go-"

"Hermione-"

"On and I really have your mother to thank for it." She said taking a dip into the pumpkin pie with her fork. Hermione thrived off of avoidance. It made unpleasant situations relatively pleasant.

She hadn't lied, though. She really had been getting better at cooking. However, Molly Weasley had not been the cause of that. It was really Narcissa's insistence that she transform herself a proper _lady_ – which meant gaining some semblance of cooking skills- if she were going to continue date her proper son. Hermione remembered how she wanted to tell Narcissa that her proper son sure didn't mind eating her improper-

"Hermione, are you listening? Maybe we should just go for the evening and let Draco cool off for a little." Harry spoke up cutting off the last of her rather dirty thoughts. "It's a great networking opportunity for him just remind him of that. Any _way _you can."

Hermione swatted his shoulder at the implications of his last words. No amount of sex had ever gotten Draco Malfoy to do anything he didn't want to do. Well, Crookshanks _could_ now sleep on the foot of their bed.

"Harry James Potter! It's your company so you should march up there and seduce Draco yourself!" She laughed poking him in the shoulder

"I am no home-wrecker, Hermione!" Harry said feigning anger at the sheer notion of being labeled a home wrecker. "Just think of what the tabloids will write!"

"Not so fast, Potter! How do you explain how you got me? " Ginny mused with one hand on her hip and head cocked to the side.

"I had more muscle and wit than that other twit." He responded pulling her to him with a smile

Hermione imagined this was how relationships were supposed to be. She wasn't quite sure why hers was so far from the norm.

"Merlin, please leave before I throw up on my own bloody table!" Hermione laughed quickly kissing her friends goodbye.

"Don't forget what I said Hermione! By _any_ means necessary!"

Hermione had been sitting in the same chair since Harry and Ginny had left hours ago. She wasn't about to go marching up the stairs when she knew he was up there somewhere just _waiting_ for her to apologize for what he had done. They were both stubborn but she was a little more so than he was and, therefore, she would win this battle.

She dug her fork into her pumpkin pie and cursed herself for ever getting into a relationship with such a maddening man.

She had lost. Only because he had cheated! He cried out as if he was in an immense amount of pain so, of course, she ran up the stairs half expecting him to be sprawled out dead on the silk duvet.

"Draco Malfoy, sometimes you can be insufferable." She said plainly as she sat down in front of their vanity mirror. She undid the clasp that had a hold on her hair and watched as it poured down below her shoulders. Some of it, much to her displeasure, was still red but it at times made her hair look lively. Other times it made her look silly.

"You know why I can't give him that money, Hermione. He'll blow it like he always does on some inane idea that won't ever work." He really was on the duvet, as she had imagined while running up the stairs full speed. He just wasn't dead. Yet. "Then he'll be back with his next big idea. We aren't friends no matter how much you try to force us into it. We'll never share anything in common but you."

"I don't care about why you can't give him the bloody money, Draco. I care about how you act towards the people I love- regardless of if you like them are not." She replied meeting his gaze in the mirror. "I don't go around taking tones with Pansy just because she's acts surprised I can read because I'm a Muggle-born. I don't say rude things when he use to disapprove of us, I simply changed his mind."

"Rubbish! You hexed Pansy and you bribed Zabini with baked goods."

"Be serious about this!" She had hexed Pansy but she certainly did not bribed Zabini.

"I'm rude to your friends just as you are to mine! That's what we do! Why do you get angry just because it's your friends that are getting the piss taken out of them? Why do I always have to hold my tongue but yours get to be sharp?" He said his voice lowering just as it had in the dining area. No matter the tone of his voice, he was always so intense. Passionate about everything from curtains to things like this. It was unnerving.

"I'm a lot nicer to yours than you are to mine, I'll tell you that much. You treat mine like they are without a brain-"She stopped when she saw the smirk and arched eyebrow in the reflection of the mirror. She turned around to face him. "See! They aren't even here and you're being a prat!"

She walked over to the bed and braced her hands on the footboard. "I just want you to be nicer to my friends and I'll be nicer to yours as much as it pains me." She said running a hand over crookshanks soft fur. She mostly just wanted this fight to be over as it was well past her bedtime.

"I'll try-" He spit the words out as if it pained him, " to be civil and courteous with your friends but don't expect me to be someone I'll never be."

"I know, Draco. After all you're not Potter. "She said in the best imitation of him she could do.

She crawled onto the bed and looked at him for a moment. They had been dating for a year now but she never got tired of looking at him. He was in his twenties but he still looked relatively young. The war hadn't given him the wrinkles around the eyes like they had Harry. Or the scars that it had given Ron. No, he made it out with his good looks and he never was one to let people forget.

"Come here… I-I'm sorry I called you a bint earlier." He murmured into her hair as she pressed her head against his chest.

She had won. He had apologized first but she wasn't going to ruin a good thing but bragging now.

"And I'm sorry I said those things about you know, that father of yours." She said a smile tugging on her lips.

"Ah, Lucius. Wait until I tell him what you _really_ think of him."

She snorted- Narcissa wouldn't approve of something so un-lady like.

"I'm sure it's no different than what he already knows I think of him."

"We'll figure that out at brunch later this week," He said with a smirk before covering her protests with his lips. "It slipped my mind to tell you my mum owled the other evening. We'll talk more in the morning."

He feigned a yawn as she was about to start another one of her rants.

"Good night, love. Crooks and I are worn out and we need to meet with- oh, what did you call him- the sandman"

"Prat." She whispered. She had let him win that one but only because sleep was calling her.

A/N: This is the first fic that I've written in probably over four years and I hope it doesn't show too badly :p. If you have time to review, please do. If you don't, thanks for reading and I hope that you enjoyed it P.s. does anyone know a good ( and active) D/HG archive?


End file.
